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The kids are playing in the pool, Maggie dog-paddling in her floaties and Eli floating in his ring at the shallow end, when I pull Kenna aside.
“When are we going to tell them?” I ask her, and my voice is flat and cold.
“Soon,” she responds under her breath, glancing back toward Eli and Maggie.
“We should do it sooner rather than later, since you’re leaving,” I snap, and Kenna narrows her eyes at me.
“I’m not leaving right away,” she says softly.
I roll my shoulders around, feeling tense.
“I don’t know how they’ll take it,” I say, but what I really mean is that I don’t know howI’lltake it.
“I don’t either,” she agrees. “But it has to be done.”
It doesn’t have to be done. You could stay here. Stay with me.
I clear my throat so I don’t say what I’m thinking. I know I should talk to her, tell her the truth about how I feel, but I can’t. I’m just so angry and love is not about anger. Besides, if she is really leaving, the kids needs to be able to have a proper goodbye and they need all the memories they can get.
“You’re leaving them, just like their mother did,” I say, not realizing that’s what I was going to say, and Kenna gasps.
“I’m not leaving them,” she said quietly but with anger just under the surface. “I’m leavingyou. You’re the one who gave up on this.”
“Gave up on what?” I ask, and Kenna blinks again and I can see that her blue eyes have gone glassy and I hate myself.
“You know what,” she hisses, and then Maggie calls for her and Kenna strips off her clothes, down to her bikini and I look away, not wanting to see the long line of her thighs or the curve of her back.
I don’t want to be attracted to her right now. I want her just to be another employee, one who is leaving.
I stalk back into the house and grab myself a beer. I know she is right, It’s all my fault. But I’m also afraid that even if I tell her the truth, even if I ask her to stay, she’ll still leave. She’ll still break my heart. Just like Suzanna did. But what if she doesn’t? My heart leaps at that, as another voice in my head immediately counters, ‘But what if she does?’ and I deflate again.
It’s going to be a long day.
I watch through the window of the kitchen as Kenna swims with the kids, letting Maggie dunk her under the water.
They’ll miss her so much.
I’llmissed her so much.
I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let her go, how not to feel abandoned all over again.
But Kenna isn’t like Suzanna. I’m the one who ruined this.
After chugging my first beer, I grab another out of the fridge. It’s Sunday, after all, and I don’t go into work until the morning. Plus, Kenna’s here to watch the kids and I need something to numb everything that I’m feeling right now.
By the time dinner rolls around, I’m clumsy after a six pack, making hamburgers and fries. I finally manage to get it done and Kenna frowns at me at the dinner table.
“What?” I ask her, and she gestures toward the beer bottles that I’ve deposited in the trash can.
I shrug. “It’s my day off,” I mutter, cracking open another one.
I don’t usually act like this. I don’t drink around the kids, but Kenna’s back and all I can think about is that she’s leaving.
The alcohol helps numb the abandonment and anger that I’m feeling, and I’m not going to stop just because Kenna disapproves.
She isn’t my wife. She isn’t their mother.
Even if part of me wishes that she was. A big part. Like all of me.
